


A Home to Runaway To

by quil12



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, runaway teens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26299582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quil12/pseuds/quil12
Summary: Zuko has finally had enough living at home. He's finally made the decision to run away and create a life for himself away from his family. Along the way, he meets someone who will be able to become the family that he has always longed for. Surviving on the streets is rough, but it's easier with a buddy.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	1. The Runaway

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first post on Ao3. I was once very into posting fanfics on fanfiction.net, but it's been years. I'm currently writing a whole story with my own original characters, but I want to write this as my breaks from that. Anyway, I've been obsessed with the idea of runaways ever since I read The Thief Lord when I was in 5th grade, so this whole thing is very fun for me. Any feedback is much appreciated and I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> (PS, Sokka will show up in the next chapter)

Zuko sat up in bed, biting his lip. It was now or never. Tonight he was finally doing it - he had finally gathered up the courage to run away. Of course, he had thought about it often ever since his mother had died three years ago, but he had never quite had the guts to actually attempt it. 

Everyone should be in bed by now, so it was his perfect opportunity to go. He took a deep breath and stood up, glancing around his room. He knew that he needed to pack a few things before he left if he was going to succeed in this.

He grabbed his backpack off the floor and dumped out all of his school things onto his bed. He hastily grabbed a few changes of clothes and shoved them in the bag. He also grabbed the flashlight that was laying on his windowsill as well as some extra batteries. He took the wallet off of his dresser and grabbed the cash out of it, folding it up and putting it in his pocket. The wallet had his IDs in it and he didn’t want to be too identifiable if he was caught. 

He looked around for any other things that he should take from his room and his eyes immediately caught on the book laying on his desk. There wasn’t a whole lot of room left in his bag and he wanted to be able to take as much food as possible, but, he grabbed the book anyway and shoved it in among the other contents of the bag. 

Sure that he had gotten everything, he put the backpack on and turned toward the door. There was a mirror hanging on the back of it, and he stopped as he saw himself. His scar. He needed to cover his scar. It was such a good identifying mark that anybody looking for him would be able to easily track him down based completely on that alone. 

He thought for a moment, then took the backpack off. He opened the door to his room as quietly as possible and started tiptoeing down the hallway toward his sister’s room. Azula had always scared him and this was no exception. She was probably asleep by now so he figured he just needed to be as quiet as possible and he would be able to get away with it.

He opened the door, wincing as the hinges squeaked. He could see her asleep in her bed, but even so, his heart pounded rapidly in his chest. He was hyper aware of the sound his breath made as he looked around the room.

There, on her desk. He made his way forward, not breathing until he reached it. He gingerly grabbed the foundation compact as well as the sponge that went along with it.

“Zuko, what are you doing in my room?”

He felt his heart drop. He turned around quickly, hiding the compact behind his back. Azula was sitting in her bed, glaring at him. “Uh, nothing,” he said, his voice shaking.

“Yeah, right,” she said, flipping the covers off and walking toward him. She grabbed his arm and pulled it in front, taking the make up from him. “And what were you going to do with this?”

“I…” he looked down at his feet. He didn’t know what to do now that he had been caught. “I wasn’t going to do anything.”

Azula put her hand on her hip, “I know you’re up to something, and you’re going to tell me what it is.”

Zuko bit his lip. He didn’t want to tell Azula what he was doing. If she found out, she might tell their father and that terrified him more than anything. 

Azula let out a tired sigh, “Look, if you’re not going to tell me I guess I’ll have to tell Father that you were stealing from me.”

That was also not good. He thought for another few seconds then said, “I’m running away.” He decided it was probably a better idea to try and hedge his bets with Azula than their father.

There was a brief moment where shock could be seen on her face before she smirked. “I honestly didn’t think you had it in you.”

“To run away?” Zuko asked, his mind trying to figure out what her response meant. 

“I’ve been waiting for this for three years now. I was starting to think you’d never do it.” She thought for a moment, then held up the foundation, “Trying to cover your scar with this?”

He nodded.

“Sit,” Azula said, pointing to her desk chair. 

He did as he was told, his legs slightly shaking. 

Azula turned on her desk lamp and looked toward Zuko, starting to apply the make up to his face. 

“Why are you helping me?” Zuko asked, his mind racing with possibilities. 

She stopped applying the foundation, “If you’re gone then I become the sole heir to the family fortune… If you die,” she shrugged, “even better.” She continued with the make up, “But if you’re caught it’ll ruin everything.” She was quiet for a few seconds, “Close your eye.”

Zuko felt his whole mouth go dry, but he did what she said. At least she wasn’t going to rat out his plan to their father. Even so, his heart was still racing. 

After a few minutes, he felt the pressure of the sponge come off his face. “There, all done,” Azula said. He looked at himself in the mirror. He could still see the obvious place where the scar was - the make up added a different dimension to the skin there, but anybody looking casually wouldn’t know the difference. 

“Okay, now leave,” Azula said, “And don’t get caught.” 

Zuko nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him, not bothering to be extremely quiet anymore. His father’s bedroom was a floor up and it was unlikely that he would hear him. His heart finally started to slow down and he could feel the adrenaline start to wear off. He was actually going to be able to do this!

He walked back to his room and grabbed his bag, looking one last time to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. Then, he left the room and walked down the stairs into the kitchen. He grabbed as much food as he could carry. It was mostly cans so that it would last a while. He also made sure to take the can opener with him so he could actually open said cans. 

With that, he went to the front door and walked out, being careful to close it softly behind him. He was on the last step - he wasn’t going to make a mistake here. He walked out of the house and down the stone path. He reached the iron gate and pulled it open just enough for him to get out. He took a few steps before looking back at the house - the house that he had grown up in. There was such a mix of sweet and bitter memories about that house. Most of the sweet ones had been with his mother, however, and all that was left for him there was more fear and loneliness. 

Zuko turned away and started walking down the road. What lay ahead for him now, he had no idea, but whatever it was, it had to be better than that house.


	2. The Thief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was having a lot of fun writing this, so here's the second chapter! We meet Sokka this time as Zuko has some trouble in the city. Again, I hope that you enjoy this, and as always, any feedback would be appreciated!

Zuko placed his head on the window of the train, watching the scenery as it flew by. It was almost eight in the morning. His father had probably discovered that he was missing by now. He vaguely wondered what his reaction would be, but he eventually decided that he didn’t care and let his mind wander to other things. 

After he had left the house, he had walked the mile down to the train station. He had come just in time to catch a train that was leaving to the complete other side of the country. That suited him just fine. A new life in a new place. The further he got away from his father and his sister, the better he felt. 

No one had said anything about the make up on his face, so he figured that it was doing a good job at concealing his scar. Of course, once he got to where he was going, it wouldn’t be too much use in hiding his identity. He hoped that once he got there, he would be far enough away that it wouldn’t matter. 

He knew that his uncle lived somewhere over on this side of the country, and he briefly thought about going there, but he hadn’t seen him since his mother died, not to mention that he didn’t know where exactly he lived nor did he know how to contact him. There was also the possibility that he would make him go back home, and that was out of the question, so the idea was abandoned pretty quickly. 

He was still unsure of what he would be doing or where he would stay once he got there. After buying the train ticket, he didn’t have enough money to rent a hotel room - just enough to buy a few meals. 

Before he knew it, the train was coming up to the station. He picked his backpack off the floor by his feet and hugged it to his chest as they came to a stop. There was a small bustling of activity as the few people around him started grabbing their things and getting off the train. 

Zuko took a deep breath and stood up, walking off the train and into a new city. 

The first thing he felt was overwhelmed. The town he had grown up in had been extremely small compared to this. Not to mention, he had only really left his house to go to school and have the occasional family outing. Even though this was only the train station, he was shocked by the amount of people walking around. 

He took a few steps forward, gaping at everything going on around him. He hardly noticed the people pushing past him to get to their trains. Someone knocked into him especially hard, pulling him out of his stupor. 

He regained his composure then walked out of the train station and onto the street. It didn’t seem quite as busy out here, but the streets were still bustling with activity. 

He wandered around for a few hours, not really sure where he was going or what he was doing. He was just having a fun time exploring. The busy city streets were nice due to novelty, but over time, he started to prefer walking down the quieter side streets where there weren’t as many people. 

He was having a good time until it started raining. He didn’t have a place to go to get shelter nor did he have an umbrella to keep himself from getting wet. 

Maybe he could go into one of the cafes or restaurants he had seen along to way to get indoors for a little while? He would probably need to buy something if he was going to be allowed in. He reached into his pocket to see how much cash he had, but to his surprise and horror, all of it was gone. He stood there for a minute, feeling like he had failed already. He felt tears start to form in his eyes, but he forced them back. Somebody must have pickpocketed him earlier. No money in a big city. What was he supposed to do now?

He sulked for a bit, wondering if it was too late to go back home. No, he decided. He was never going back there. This was just a minor setback. He wasn’t going back home and that was final. He had made the decision to leave and he was going to stick by that. 

He walked around, looking for a place where he could wait out the rain when he found a small covered alley. Nobody would bother him there and he would be relatively dry. He leaned up against the wall and waited. 

Looking out at the people walking by, one of them caught his eye. It was a guy that looked to be about his age, so maybe 15. He didn’t have an umbrella and Zuko told himself that that was what had captured his attention about him. In truth, it was because he was very handsome. He had high cheekbones, and eyes such a striking blue that Zuko could see the color from where he was standing. His hair was tied neatly back in a ponytail. Despite that, his clothes looked ripped and dirty, as if he had just spent several days surviving out in a forest. From that, he figured that he was probably living on the streets. Anybody who had been out in the woods would have cleaned themselves up before going out. For whatever reason, Zuko found himself captivated by what he was doing. 

He was looking into a store window. He then stopped, leaning against the building next to the door, crossing his arms and whistling. He waited there for a minute until someone else entered the building. He quietly went in after them.

All was quiet for a few minutes, but then, the guy came barreling out of the store, a bag slung over his shoulder. A few seconds later, someone came out after him - a person Zuko could only assume was the shop owner. It took him a few seconds to process before he realized that the guy had stolen something. 

He ran across the street to the side that Zuko was on, but the shop owner was gaining on him. As he ran by the alley, Zuko caught his eye. He was about to be caught. He felt his heart sink. For whatever reason, he did not want this guy to get in trouble. 

Without really thinking, Zuko stepped out of the alley, crashing into the shop owner. He vaguely saw the guy turn and race down the alley behind him. 

The shop owner stumbled, looking down at Zuko seemingly in a daze. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Zuko said, steading himself, “I didn’t see you.”

The shop owner grumbled something in reply, then took back off down the street. Zuko watched him go, then turned back toward the alley. The guy that he had helped was walking back toward him - the alley was a dead end. 

“Hey,” the guy said, “Thanks for doing that.”

Zuko stared at him for a second, his brain not fully comprehending his sentence. “Oh, uh, no problem,” he finally said. “Uh, I’m Zuko by the way.”

The guy looked at him, pursing his lips, “Sokka,” he said. 

Zuko stood there watching him, feeling awkward as Sokka carefully looked out of the opening of the alley. He then started to walk out, turning down the street in the opposite direction the shop owner had gone. Not knowing what to do, Zuko started following him.

“What are you doing?” Sokka asked after a few steps.

“Uh, following you.”

“I can see that. Why?” 

Zuko faltered, “I don’t know,” he admitted, feeling silly. 

“Why don’t you go home instead of following me?” He looked Zuko up and down, “From the look of things, you’re pretty well off. You don’t need to come with some homeless kid.”

Zuko was quiet for a second, unsure of what to say. Eventually, he figured that telling the truth would be the best course of action. “I… I uh ran away today. I can’t go home,” Zuko said, feeling his voice waver.

Sokka’s face seemed to soften for a moment, then he sighed, “Okay, I guess you can come with me.”

Zuko felt an instant relief after he said that, speeding up his pace to match Sokka’s. They walked for a while, the only sound being the rain that was now starting to pour and the sound of their shoes on the concrete. It was about twenty minutes before they reached an old and dilapidated house. 

The front porch was basically nonexistent, save the remains of the roof that had once overhung it. At one point, the house might have been painted green, but by this point, it was more of a brown with a hint of rot. Several of the roofing tiles had fallen off of the building and were now half buried in the mud. 

Sokka climbed over the remains of the roof and got to the door. He turned to Zuko, who was still standing on the sidewalk staring up at the place. “It’s really old and run down, but it’s been abandoned for years, so no one will find us here.”

Zuko nodded numbly, starting to find his way across the rubble and to the door, wondering what he was getting himself into. Once he got to the door, he had to take an uncomfortably long step up to get inside. 

Indoors wasn’t all that much better than outdoors. The floor had fallen through in some areas and the walls were covered in torn up and rotting wallpaper. He could hear a dripping sound coming from upstairs - probably a hole in the roof letting the rain in.

He followed Sokka through the house until they got to what was probably once the living room. It seemed in better condition than the rest of the house - at least no holes in the floor. There was a large pile of blankets strewn about on the ground in the middle of the room. Sokka walked over to it, throwing his bag down. He sat down, leaned back, and crossed his legs. 

He grinned at Zuko, “Home sweet home.”


	3. The Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having way too much fun writing this, so here's the third chapter in three days. I hope you enjoy! This chapter gets more into the backstories as to why they ran away. I'm also going to give a warning that this chapter talks about death as well as some implied abuse, so just be aware of that. With how things are going, it's a very real possibility that the next chapter will be up tomorrow. Feel free to leave any feedback - comments make me feel giddy for the rest of the day and I appreciate any sort of interaction greatly. Enjoy!

A week and a half had passed since Zuko had met Sokka. He quickly discovered that the boy had a pretty laid back attitude once you got to know him. Sokka had a deck of playing cards that they often used to pass the time. He also had a sketch pad and some colored pencils that he would use to draw from time to time. The drawings weren’t very good, but they were fun to look at and seemed to make Sokka happy. There wasn’t a whole lot else to do seeing as it was bad for them to be seen going in and out of the house if at all possible. 

On the first day that they had met, Zuko had wiped off the makeup covering his scar so it was now on full display. After he had done it, Sokka had stared at him for a while, but didn’t really say anything about it. A few days had passed and he stopped catching him staring, but it still made him feel very self conscious about himself. From time to time, he discovered himself unconsciously facing his left side away from Sokka so he wouldn’t be able to see it as clearly. 

Today, however, they were going out for the first time to get more food. With what Zuko had brought and Sokka had stolen, they had lasted for a while, but they were starting to run low. For this first time stealing, the plan was that Zuko was going to be the one to distract people while Sokka did the actual stealing. 

They had spent some time finding a store that was almost empty. The only people inside were the person running the shop as well as an elderly couple looking around. Zuko was the one who walked in first. 

They had gone over what he was going to say several times, but his heart was pounding in his ears as he walked into the shop. He must have looked pretty rough because as soon as he walked in, the shop owner spoke to him. 

“Hey there son, are you okay?”

Zuko’s mind faltered for a moment and he just stared at him for a few seconds before responding, “Oh, uh, yeah. I just got turned around. I’ve never been to this city before and I lost my parents a while ago. We were supposed to meet at the train station, but I don’t know how to get there.” 

Zuko held his breath, worried that the man would think it sounded too much like a script to be believable. Behind him, the door opened as Sokka came into the shop. 

The man looked like he was thinking for a moment before he gestured at Zuko to come over to him. “I’m no good at giving directions out loud so let me draw you a map.”

Zuko walked over to him as he pulled out a pencil and some paper. He started giving verbal directions as he drew, but Zuko was too nervous to actually hear what he was saying. He kept glancing over to where Sokka was, feeling like they were about to get caught any second. 

Miraculously, he didn’t ever look over to Sokka, and the elderly couple were too busy having a conversation to pay him any notice either. He watched him walk around the store, discreetly putting things into his bag. After what seemed like an eternity, he gave him a thumbs up and slunk out of the store as quietly as he could. 

Zuko waited for the man to finish the map, his heart still pounding. Sokka was out now, but there was still a fear in the back of his mind that he would get caught. When he was finished, he took it, mumbled a thank you, then also walked out of the store. He looked at the map, feeling a slight tinge of regret. He had gone through all that trouble to help him, and they had repaid that favor by stealing from him. 

Sokka’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “Whew, that was so much easier with another person. We have enough stuff to last at least another week now.”

Zuko looked over to him. He was smiling widely, looking proud of himself. Zuko mirrored the smile - it was hard not to.

They walked back to the house, Sokka chattering to him the whole way. When he had first met him, he seemed very gruff and somewhat cold, but after talking to him a bit, he started getting more and more friendly. Now, he talked quite a bit about ideas and just general things that happened to cross his mind. Zuko didn’t have any problem with it. It was nice to have something to fill the silence with and keep him from entering his own thoughts too much.

As they reached the house, it was starting to get dark. They split up as they came in, Sokka walking to the kitchen with their stolen goods and Zuko heading to the living room. There was now a pile of blankets in there for him as well. He sat down and waited for a few minutes, for Sokka to get back after putting the food away in the cupboards. After a little while, he got bored. 

He grabbed his backpack from where he had left it next to his makeshift bed and rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for. It was the book that he had taken with him. There was a picture of a yellow duck on the front of it. As he looked at it, he could feel the tears wanting to come. The only thing that stopped him from crying was Sokka coming into the room, flopping down next to him. 

“What’s that?” he asked, gesturing at the book. 

Zuko bit his lip, then took a deep breath, “It’s a book my mother always used to read to me,” he said, then added, “before she died.”

He felt Sokka’s hand touch his shoulder and he had to stop himself from flinching. He turned to see him watching him with a concerned look on his face, “What happened to her?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Zuko sat there for a few seconds, the memories flooding back to him. He had to fight back the tears that were threatening to make their way out of his eyes. “She got really sick and died about three years ago now.”

The memory of her death was very blurry and unclear to him. The whole ordeal felt like a nightmare that was slowly fading from his mind. He had stayed by her the whole time she was sick, refusing to leave her even to go to school. She had done her best to make it seem like everything was going to be okay, but he had known somewhere in the back of his mind that she would die from this disease. When it finally happened, he had needed to be physically dragged away from her. He had refused to move, holding her hand. He told everyone that she had just fallen asleep and would be waking up any time now. He vaguely remembered his uncle consoling him over it, but he barely listened to him, instead spending weeks in denial. He had tried to make up a story to himself that she had simply left on a long trip. That in a few weeks, he would wake up to her standing over his bed, telling him good morning. Of course, she never came back. 

That was about the time things started to get really bad. Without his mother there, there was no one to protect him from his father and Azula. “She was the only one I really had,” Zuko told Sokka. “My sister would constantly torment me. My mother would always tell her to stop, but I was too scared to stand up to her. One time she actually almost stabbed me with a knife,” He laughed bitterly, “And my father…” Zuko trailed off, his hand almost going instinctively up to his left eye, “I couldn’t stand living in that house without her. I lasted three years, but then I just had to leave,” Zuko paused for a second, “I guess I could only put up with so much without her there. I was never quite alone, but they were the loneliest three years I’ve ever gone through.” 

Sokka said nothing, just continued to hold his hand on Zuko’s shoulder. He had never said anything like this to anyone before and it felt nice to finally get some of it off his chest - his frustrations and his vulnerabilities. Everything was quiet for a few moments. He decided it might be best to change the subject.

“So what about you then? What happened to you that you decided to run away?” Zuko asked. 

Sokka leaned back, taking his hand off his arm, “I grew up in an orphanage. I got separated from my parents when I was really little. I don’t remember too much about it, just some general chaos and not being able to find them. They looked for them afterward, but weren’t able to actually find them so they put me in an orphanage.” Sokka shrugged, “I didn’t like it there so I ran away. Been living on the streets ever since.”

“Have you ever thought about trying to find your parents?” Zuko asked, feeling glad for the distraction of Sokka’s story. 

“Mmm, I thought about it for a while, but I wouldn’t know where to start. I only remember them very vaguely. Like as if I saw them in a dream, ya know,” Sokka said, looking up at the ceiling. “I figure it’s just best to live with the hand that I was dealt. If I somehow find them one day, then that’s cool, but it seems like a wild goose chase to try and find them myself.” Neither of them said anything for a while after that.

“So anyway,” Sokka started to stand up, “What do you say we go have dinner? I’m starving!” 

Zuko placed the book back into his backpack before he stood up. He felt a smile start to tug at his lips as he followed Sokka to the kitchen. He had never felt comfortable enough to even really talk about his mother to anyone before. It was starting to feel more like home in this old ratty building than it had ever felt living with his father. He had never really had any friends, but he was starting to feel like he had finally made one.


End file.
